The Aftermath
by Kess Becker
Summary: Daltonverse. Several weeks after Hell Night, Logan sees Julian again for the first time...but how can this really be Julian? Sad Jogan is sad.


"No. I'll be fine. Really, Michelle…okay, goodbye." Logan hung up his phone, turning it on silent before stowing it back to his pocket.

He didn't want to speak to anyone else today. He reached his door, turned the handle and flung it open. He wanted to get straight to his piano and sing his heart out until he couldn't remember what Michelle and everyone else had been worrying about…only someone was already there.

"Hi Logan." Julian didn't turn around.

He was sitting on the piano stool, his shoulders hunched and his fingers resting lightly on the keys but not playing. Logan stood in the doorway, not quite knowing what to do. This was the first time he had seen Julian since they had escaped the Art Hall. Julian had at once been strapped to a gurney and wheeled off in an ambulance. Logan hadn't been taken to hospital. Only those who had really been seriously injured had, and there were enough of those. Every time he had tried to visit or call, he had been unable to get through to him. When Derek returned from his own stay, he told him that even he hadn't been able to see him. Julian had been occupied twenty-four hours by doctors, inquiring policemen, followed by psychologists, his lawyer, his hysterical manager, more psychologists, his hysterical manager screaming hysterically at the psychologists and then finally by a deep medicated sleep. Ashamedly, Logan had felt slightly relieved. He didn't know what to say, what to do. So many things had changed that night, so many unspoken exchanges between them, he wasn't even sure if this was Julian anymore. But this was Julian and they were still best friends and Logan knew that he just had to push through all this. He loved him. Even if it wasn't in the way that Jules had meant it, he cared for him and Derek more than he could express. And it wasn't about him anymore.

Logan walked forward and pulled up another chair to the piano.

"Hey Jules. Welcome back." He began hesitantly.

"Isn't that funny?" Julian answered, still not looking up. "It's been three whole years since I fell in love with you and, still, the first place I come to when I get back to school is your room. It's neater than when I last saw it. You must be doing well."

_What?_

How was he supposed to answer that? Was he even supposed to answer? The truth was that Logan hadn't been doing well. He was plagued by constant nightmares nearly all relating to the night in the Art Hall. Images of Adam pressing the knife deeper and deeper into Julian, screaming at him to love him. Derek crawling through the Stuart dormitories as his, reaching for Logan, reaching but never quite there. Blaine sobbing over a limp body, half resembling Kurt, the other half looking like a decomposing corpse. Policemen cuffing his hands as his father yelled at him, telling him that the fire was entirely his fault. Julian screaming and pleading with Logan to stop hurting him as a thick stream of blood flowed from his heart.

Merril had come by Stuart House the other day and, despite his protests, cleared up the mess in his room. They had become a lot closer since that night. But Logan wasn't okay. How could Julian not know that? He _had_ to know that.

The silence was broken when a ring went off in Julian's pocket. He pulled out his phone and started at it for a few moments before turning the alarm off.

"Oh. Pill time."

Reaching in to his pocket once again, he pulled out a small white bottle that looked really familiar to Logan. Julian unscrewed the cap and poured two small orange pills into his hand, tipped his head back and popped them into his mouth.

"We match now." Julian, noticing Logan's confusion, gave a weak smile and slid the container back in his pocket.

"So, I hope you don't mind," He continued, "but I decided to steal your piano. Carmen wants me to practice for my next big role. It's a heart-wrenching musical where I play a legendary revolutionary who heroically fights for his country." Julian's voice was an echo of what it used to be. He still held the same swagger and ostentatious tone that he had always had but it had lost all its intention, all its caring.

"What?" Logan burst out, feeling his anger begin to rise. "Are you serious? You're taking on another role? Julian, you need to rest."

Julian turned to face his friend, meeting his gaze for the first time and Logan's breath was caught in his throat. Julian's eyes had large rings around them, as though he hadn't slept in years. He had lost a significant amount of weight that no amount of baggy clothing could disguise. His face was a ghostly shade of white. Logan's eyes travelled down to his neck, finding that the scars that had Adam left were the only ones that were healing.

"No rest for the wicked. And I'm the worst one yet." Julian turned back to face the music sheets sitting on the stand, his fingers begin to stiffly move across the keys, singing out an uneven tune.

Julian closed his eyes, trying to remember and copy out the correct melody. On his fourth try his hand slipped, hitting the wrong keys.

Logan stood up and slipped onto the stool beside Julian. "Here. Let me help."

He rested his hands on top of Julian's. Very slowly he moved them across the instrument and played out the first four bars. Logan looked up at the music sheet and began to sing.

_I'm not the first man to fall in love._

_I'm not the first boy to have a dream._

It wasn't long before he began to lose himself in the lyrics. By the time he reached the end of the first verse, he didn't even notice when Julian's hands dropped out from under his. He continued to play.

The song had a classic feel. It sang about the dangers of war, how you could so easily lose all those you love without any warning. But it kept returning to the same phrase, the same conclusion. _Anything that could be, from heaven or from hell. I'll fight for you. The memories brand my soul. I'll fight for you._

It was beautiful. A love song to his country, to his people. A promise of dedication and perseverance. The song finally came to an end and Logan sang the final lyrics.

_We're entwined amongst the stars._

_I'll remember you._

_I'll love you._

_I'll fight for you._

Slowly, coming back to his surrounding, Logan turned to find Julian hunched over, his face in his hands.

Logan froze. What was he doing? Singing ballads about love and promises with Julian right next to him? Holding his hands? Hadn't he hurt him badly enough?

"I'm so sorry, Jules. I shouldn't have…" Logan started.

Julian raised his head and turned to face the boy he had loved for three years. He smiled faintly.

"Don't worry, Lo. I can't feel anything."

Something loud and agonising pressed painfully in Logan's heart. His eyes began to burn as he watched Julian stand up, swaying slightly. His brain was screaming for him to call to him. Grab him and never let him go. Julian reached for his blazer, lying crumpled on the bed and walked towards the door. Logan stared after him, unable to speak. As he reached the doorway, he turned, looking into Logan's horrified eyes and at the same time, looking nowhere at all.

"I'm just like you now, Logan. The only difference is that I like it here. It's so empty and…happy."

He lifted a finger and looked into the distance, signing for Logan to listen.

"There's no noise."

He turned again for the final time and started to close the door behind him. In that moment, Logan was sure of one thing. If Julian closed that door, he was gone. Logan had to keep him in the room where he would be safe. He could protect him from Adam, from the doctors and the medication, from the paparazzi.

From him.

"Jules...?"

The door clicked shut.

His breathing hitched, his heart pounding faster and faster. Adam Clavell's voice rang out raucously in his head._That's the problem with you. You're hideously self-centered. You have no __idea __how much pain you've given everyone._

Logan leaned his head into his hands, gripping his hair so hard that he could feel the pressure tearing hard at his scalp. Tears burned him like acid as they scorched down his face. He was certain that he could hear the hissing as they singed the carpet. He flicked his eyes open wide, gaping into the unavoidable truth. It glared straight back at him.

_What have I done?_

**Author's note:**

This is really sad. Sad Julian is sad. Why do I keep writing sad Juligan stories? This is ridiculous. Poor Logan. He's a loyal old squid.

Ah! So there's been a huge influx of Dalton into my brain after Hell Night and I'm also working on Broken Sunglasses but as soon as they are all cleared up I'm going to begin working on a Harry Potter fic that's been developing in my mind for months now. The plot is vast and complicated but I can't stop thinking about it.

And now, to bed! I greet you with open arms! In the words of Sir Lancelot Du Lake – "I greatly lust for sleep."


End file.
